A sonnet


The Song of Spring

Our fingers gently brush the violets blue,
their playful heads dancing in fragrant breeze.
With opulent wings and rich vibrant hue
they fly towards heaven, kissing the trees.
Pristine spring scent over the spire wafts down
and coats the sweet meadows, so plush and green.
Primroses dressed in their sun yellow gowns
sway to a music that's soft and serene.
Romance blooms in sight of nature's beauty
and flowers are tinged with love's beads of dew.
Our crystal tears cling to eternity,
to the warmth of spring which it seeks to woo.
We lazily gaze as new dreams are born,
fulfilled in the love that nature adorns.




Poetry by Kiran
Read 666 times
Written on 2007-04-23 at 11:37

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